Timelines Collide
by Princess Buruma
Summary: Future Bulma and Trunks travel through time and meet Vegeta and Bulma from the past. Deceptions, lies and betrayals will threaten to wreck the family.
1. Anniversary

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball. Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT and all of their characters belong to Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation.

Timelines Collide

Chapter 1: Anniversary

Trunks looked with special attention at the photo frame he held in his hand. At first sight one would say there's nothing wrong with it. A happy family composed of a mother, a father, and two sons, him being one of them. But he knew better. He didn't belong in it.

The only souvenir he kept from his last travel to the past was a photo taken by his now deceased grandmother. A young Bulma holding her baby, a scowling Vegeta to her left, and Trunks barely behind him. He sighed.

He missed them dearly. It had been over a year since he last saw them, and he wasn't supposed to see them either. By no means could he encounter his baby self again, for the child would develop in a slightly different way if he had any memories of the boy from the future.

He got up from his bed and put the portrait back on the bedside table before exiting his room. He found his mother in the kitchen drinking some tea while watching TV and sat next to her.

"Hey, mom. What are you watching?"

Bulma turned the TV off. "Nothing really. There was a special program about the androids and how everything has changed since then, but it's nothing I don't already know."

"Hmph... things have really changed, huh?"

"Yeah, I can finally sleep through the night..."

Seconds passed and Bulma took a couple more sips from her tea before speaking again. "Ok, Trunks. You're worrying me," she said looking at him with a surprised expression.

"And why's that?"

"Where has your sense of smell gone?"

He looked at her confused. "What do you mean...? Oh, no you didn't!" Bulma grinned. "Please tell me it's not fresh paint what I smell."

"I would be lying, honey. Go see for yourself."

Trunks walked out of the house to the front yard. During the last months Bulma had hired some architects to arrange the building. Capsule Corporation would soon be back to business. He looked at the shiny yellow wall that seemed to be recently painted from the bottom up to the first set of windows.

"Oh, come on." He entered the kitchen again, this time realizing he hadn't had breakfast yet. "Mom! I told you I'd take care of it."

"You have the rest of the wall to get you entertained. I just wanted to do something different for a change."

"You could have just painted a picture on paper, if you wanted a change."

"Oh, quit it. You know I'm really bored these days. I can't keep quiet anymore."

Trunks opened the fridge to grab a milk bottle and poured it into a glass. "Well... how about inventing something? You haven't done anything of great significance since the time machine."

"Trunks, you say it as if it wasn't important. You have no idea all the effort it took to make it. Besides, the time machine can't be of public knowledge, and I refuse to work on something below its difficulty standards. I just can't think of anything better yet."

"Yeah, I know, but-"

"But..." She interrupted him. "It's not like I won't come up with something eventually. I am the most intelligent woman in the world after all." She chuckled. "Right?"

Trunks smiled. "Yes, mom. Of course."

Bulma stood up from her chair, her grin suddenly dissipating as her happy face changed into a serious one. "Trunks, I'm gonna take a shower. Make sure to be ready when I'm done. I don't want to be late."

"...Alright."

///

An hour and a half later, Bulma and Trunks arrived at Mt. Paoz, landing in front of the Sons' home. Chi-Chi got out of the house to greet them.

"Hello, Bulma, Trunks. I'm glad to see you again. Thanks for coming."

"Hi, Chi-Chi. How have you been?" Bulma asked.

"Well, as fine as I can be..."

There was a short silence. Chi-Chi was specially lonely since Gohan's death, and she didn't have anyone else besides her father, who unfortunately wouldn't be there for much longer. Now Bulma and Trunks were more likely the only people she could talk to.

"Look, we brought flowers," Bulma said, "Can you grab them for me, Trunks?"

"Fine." Trunks went to the plane and came back with two bouquets of roses.

Chi-Chi gasped. "Oh, they're beautiful!" Then she looked back at the young adult. "Trunks, my gosh, you're even taller than the last time I saw you."

"You mean two weeks ago? I don't think so."

"Yes, you sure are... You remind me so much of my Gohan..."

"Uh... How about we get going?" Bulma suggested.

"Um, Ok..." Chi-Chi agreed.

They walked silently to a nearby hill, upon which the sun shone brightly. A few meters away from the edge, there lay two gravestones, Goku's and Gohan's. As Chi-Chi knelt down in front of Goku's tomb, she felt a bitter sadness quickly growing inside her.

"Hello, my Goku..." she started to say, but then she remained speechless.

Bulma put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her, not uttering a word. Trunks stood in front of Gohan's grave, recalling the times he spent with his master.

"An other year without you..." Chi-Chi continued.

"Chi-Chi, I know he's always watching over you..." Bulma whispered, but her words abruptly trailed off.

She was going to tell her that Goku was always there with her, even if she couldn't see him. But she didn't feel it would be right to say something she didn't actually believe. After all, she felt lonely too. She'd tried to fight her emotions several times, she repeated to herself that Trunks was all she ever needed. But she still felt incomplete.

The emptiness in her heart could not be filled by her son, or anyone else but Vegeta himself. As much as Bulma wished he was there, she knew he was nowhere near. And her will didn't allow her to close her eyes and pretend he wasn't gone. She couldn't lie to herself.

Sometimes she felt him beside her, watching her sleep, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his warm fingers against her face. But she would then wake up to discover it was just a false illusion.

She stared down at Chi-Chi. Over the last few years they've become quite closer. They weren't the best of friends until after Goku passed away. And during the androids' attacks, they held onto each other to help ease their pain. Now Trunks and her would often visit her. Unfortunately, they didn't have much in common except for one absolute truth. They both were widows.

"Trunks, the roses."

He startled at his mother's voice, lost in his thoughts, but he soon regained composure and put one of the bunches of flowers on Gohan's tomb. He gave the other to Bulma. She took a deep, slow breath and leaned to place it on Goku's side after separating a single rose from the group.

Chi-Chi struggled upward and stood next to Trunks. The three people prayed soundlessly for a long moment. For Goku, who died of a heart disease that exact same day so many years ago. For Gohan, who died honorably at the hands of Number 17 and 18. For everyone who suffered the misfortune of being killed by the androids. For the rest of the Z fighters, who rested in peace underground at different locations of the planet.

Bulma forcefully suppressed her tears, Chi-Chi didn't. She sobbed for some minutes, sank in her sorrow. Bulma didn't ask her to calm down, it was best to free the anguish in order to feel relieved. She knew the black haired lady was also crying in replacement for Trunks and her, who tried their best to keep strong spirits.

When she thought it was enough, Bulma called Chi-Chi's attention softly wavering the rosebud before her, offering it to her.

"Chi-Chi..."

The younger woman stared at the red petals on top of the stem she now held in her hand.

"Thank you," she murmured. She flashed a smile toward Bulma letting her know she was fine. Then her gaze went back to the graves. "What I'd give to see them again, if only for once..."

"Uh... shall we go back now?"

"...Yes." She smiled again and started to walk, Bulma and Trunks following her.

///

They didn't talk much during the trek, but before they had expected, they were in the warmth of Chi-Chi's home having a cup of sweet coffee.

"So... what have you been doing these last days?"

"Do you want to know what my mother did this morning, Chi-Chi? Just ask," Trunks said. Bulma sighed heavily in irritation.

"What? Something bad?"

"I just painted the walls a little..." she answered.

"You what? I'd thought Trunks would."

"I thought so too," Trunks said. "She wanted to do something different, to quote her words."

"Bulma, you're too restless for your own good."

It was true Bulma looked much healthier after the artificial humans were defeated. She was calmer and could finally sleep peacefully through the night, knowing her son was fine and there was no danger threatening them. But she hadn't given herself a break since then. The house, the company, everything needed to be fixed in order to be as it used to be many years ago. It was what she felt she had to do.

"It's no big deal, Chi-Chi. I just have to keep myself active, I can't stand the sedentarism. Trunks is overreacting."

"I'm not," he said. "I really think you should take some time to relax."

"Forget it, I don't need it."

"Yeah, right..."

"You know..." Chi-Chi interrupted. "You two are so lucky..." She noticed the confused expressions of her guests. "You have each other..." she explained.

Of course, they were not the luckiest people on Earth. But Bulma and Trunks did have someone to care about, unlike Chi-Chi. They wouldn't often mention Goku or Gohan when in her presence, just not to make her go sad. But it seemed like she was always the one bringing the subject, as if talking about them, or even thinking about them, actually made her feel much better.

Bulma grinned. "Yeah... I thank for him everyday." Trunks turned his face away with a shy smile.

"A child is the best gift you could be given..." She paused for an instant, sipping from her cup. "Sometimes... I wish I could go back in time, just to be with my Goku and Gohan again, for at least one moment..."

Mother and son exchanged looks. Chi-Chi didn't know about Trunks' little journey to the past. But she made them think it would be possible to make her wish come true by the simple use of a machine.

"There are so many things I've never told them..."

Bulma and Trunks read each other's minds and immediately shrugged their thoughts off. No. The timelines were not something to mess with.

"Well, as Trunks was saying..." Chi-Chi continued. "I also think you could do with a vacation, Bulma."

"You agree with him?" She sighed. "I hope you're not conspiring against me," she joked. "Well... where could I go?"

///

As their conversation went on, the sky grew darker, and eventually the Briefs went back to their house. It wasn't until late that night, when Bulma was lying on her bed, that some of Chi-Chi's words started to play in her head.

_I wish I could go back_ _in_ _time..._

She knew it was possible. The time machine actually existed and it was only a few meters away from her. But to use it was forbidden. No risks could be taken. The past and her present were safe, and she couldn't change destiny because of a childish whim.

_Just to be with my Goku and Gohan again..._

There was one person she missed as much as Chi-Chi missed her husband and son. If she could go back in time, just to be with Vegeta again...

_For at least one_ _moment..._

She shouldn't. She mustn't. But she wanted to. She hadn't seen him since Trunks was a baby, and she had accepted the fact that she would never see him again. There was nothing to excuse her from traveling through time, but still...

_There are_ _so many_ _things I've never_ _told them..._

She remembered all those things she wished she had told Vegeta before he died. Whispers of love that were eating her alive, knowing they would never escape her lips. The fact that she wouldn't be able to tell him the words she kept in her heart made her fear that she might not rest in peace when her time comes. But not only her words were unspoken, she had made a promise to herself to one glorious day make him say the things she had always dreamed of hearing. If only that nightmare hadn't became a reality... May she be forgiven, but she had unfinished business.

///

A thick ray of light was caressing Trunks' cheeks, hurting his eyes, making him turn to his side. When he was fully awake, aware of his surroundings, he acknowledged the presence of his mother standing right beside him, studying the same photograph he'd hold the day before.

"Mom?"

She smiled. "Good morning, Trunks."

"Good morning. Uh... what are you doing here?"

"Do you remember what you said yesterday? That if I decided to go on vacation we'd go wherever I want?"

"Yes..."

"Well, get ready. We're leaving today."

"What? Where...?"

Her eyes were unreadable, but her smile said it all. "We are going to the past."


	2. Reliving Memories

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball. Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT and all of their characters belong to Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation.

Chapter 2: Reliving Memories

"What?" Trunks asked, astonished. "What do you mean to the past?"

"Exactly what you're thinking," Bulma answered. "We'll visit your father, your baby self and my beautiful, younger self," she winked at him.

"Are you serious? You know how risky it is, right?"

"A risk worth taking, Trunks."

"Uh... wouldn't you rather go somewhere else? Like the beach, or the mountains..."

"You can't convince me otherwise, the decision is made."

"Mom, I'm sorry but, I think you're not thinking clearl-"

"I think I have the right to use my own creation for once," she interrupted. "Pack your things and tell me when you're done. We're leaving shortly."

///

Bulma was setting the coordinates when she heard Trunks getting onto the time machine next to her.

"You ready?"

"...Yes."

"Well, then. Let's go," she said, just about to push the buttom that would take them twenty years in the past.  
"Wait!" he half shouted.

"What?"

Trunks looked at her seriously. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"I already told you, yes."

"Don't you think it's going to be... kind of shocking? You know, for you and... your other self, and..."

"Trunks, what's worrying you so much? It will be fine, we're gonna be like... a bigger family, that's all. It can't be much different than when you were there."

"I don't exactly agree with that, but... I guess I have no choice," he sighed. "How long are we staying?"

"Uhm... I'm not sure, just a couple days."

"Uh, you do remember what the day after tomorrow is, right? Just asking."

"Saturday?" Trunks gasped in disbelief before she showed him a big smile. "Of course I remember, honey. What kind of mother wouldn't?"

He gave her a suspicious look "...Right. It's not like I really care, anyway."

She chuckled knowing the falseness of his comment. "Sure."

When Bulma moved again towards the keyboard, Trunks didn't stop her. They both remained silent as their presences disappeared from the dimension they knew, entering into one that was lost in space and time. The lights, the colors, the sounds Bulma witnessed in that infinite place made her want to stop right there and then to study all those phenomenons unknown to the world. But she couldn't. She wasn't there for more than a few seconds, and she got out of it as quickly as she got in.

///

The traffic noise, the children's laughs and the shiny sun made West City scream with life the afternoon Bulma Briefs was reading the newest volume of her favorite science magazine in the front yard of her house. She flipped through the pages, avoiding the articles that didn't have a bit of information she didn't already know. When she found something that was seemingly interesting, a shadow covered the text hindering her from reading. A stupid cloud is blocking the sun, she thought. But when she raised her head she blinked in recognition of the yellow artifact that broke all physical barriers and was no other's but her own invention. Her wide eyes sparkled at the realization that her son from the future was back, despite thinking she wouldn't see him again. She stood up and waited for him to land, but the sight of a second person on board and the unmistakable hint of blue hair suddenly called her attention.

"Oh... my... Gosh!" It couldn't be, now could it? Was that woman really who Bulma thought she was?

The time machine finally squashed the grass and its occupants emerged from it. They walked up to Bulma. Trunks smiled at her, glad to see her. His mother went slower behind him, carefully observing every inch of her past counterpart, who was reciprocating the gesture.

"Hey, mom... long time no see," Trunks said, happily greeting her.

"Oh...! Hi, Trunks!" she managed to say, still flabbergasted. "I, uh... how've you been...?"

Her eyes never left the woman that was approaching her, and Trunks was not unaware of the awkward situation.

"I..." he coughed out a nervous laugh. "Uhm, should I really introduce you to each other...?" He turned to his own timeline's mother, as if asking for her permission to talk.

"There's no need, Trunks. I think she knows who I am..." the older lady said, stepping in front of Bulma. "Right?"

"Are you..." she started to ask her. "Are you really...?"

She nodded. "Yes. I'm your self from the future."

Bulma covered her mouth with her hand, gasping in evident shock. "Gosh, you're really me...!" She looked at Trunks, who was timidly smiling at her, then back at the woman. "I can't believe this..." she said under her breath.

"This is actually very strange for me, too. As if I was in front of a mirror, or something. Although the reflection is pretty much younger..."

A smile started to grow on Bulma's face due to the comment, but she quickly erased it as worry overwhelmed her. "Wait, why are you here...? Is any other menace going to threat us? More androids, or monsters, or-"

"Oh, no, no. Not at all. Everything's fine. Look, I know you might want some explanations, so why don't we all go inside and talk calmly?" the other Bulma offered politely.

"...Alright." was all she said.

They got inside the house and sat on the comfortable indigo couches of the living room. Bulma left her magazine on the table and started to speak.

"So... you are... uhm, you are Trunks' mom, right? I mean, this Trunks..."

"Yes, I'm the one who sent him some years ago to this time."

"You made the time machine," she half asked, half affirmed.

"That's right."

Bulma still had many questions to ask, she was very intrigued to know more about her new guest, but there was something she really needed to comment on. "...You look so good!"

A light hearted laugh echoed in the room, since future Bulma and Trunks hadn't expected that sort of remark.

"Why, thank you! I was thinking the same exact thing. Gosh, I was pretty!" the older Bulma said, now very entertained with the conversation.

"Was? You still are. I mean look at you. You're almost identical to me."

"I am, aren't I? Oh, I didn't think you'd take my arrival so well. I'm so happy we understand each other!"

"Of course, we are the same person." They both giggled girlishly.

"Oh, no..." Trunks lamented, calling the women's attention. "By now one would think you're done being vain, but it seems like you will never stop."

"Trunks, you should be glad you have a beautiful mother," the Bulma from the future reproached him.

"She's right, Trunks. Just listen to her."

Trunks rolled his eyes as he heard some chuckles. Of all the things he'd thought would happen, he hadn't imagined his two mothers would end up flattering each other. He should have known. After all, Bulma was always full of herself. He sighed in relief. At least it wasn't hard for any of them to accept the other. In fact, they were already friends. But would that last?

"I love your haircut!" present Bulma complimented the other. Her hair was neck length, freely falling towards her chin. "Do you still go to Stacy's?"

"No, she was killed about ten years ago."

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, I soon found a better hairdresser, so..."

"You have to tell me who!" They laughed again.

Was it possible? Trunks thought. Were they really more concerned about their haircuts than their hairdresser's life?

"Mommy?"

A little boy pushed the door open and stuck his head in, his glance wandering round the living room. The older Bulma stood up and placed her hands on her chest, one over the other. Her mouth opened in awe and a smile slowly formed in her lips. That was her baby.

Her sudden movement caused her to be the first person to be noticed by Trunks, who smiled back at her and ran to her arms, innocently mistaking her for his own time's mother. Bulma was surprised at his reaction, but she hugged him tightly, bringing back memories of her first years of maternity, when the strong hero behind her was still an infant.

"Trunks, I'm here."

Trunks immediately recognized the voice and rotated his head to the right to see who was calling him. His mother? He looked back at the woman holding him. How could she be in two places at the same time?

"Two mommies?" he asked. He broke the embrace and stepped back, almost afraid, but he kept composure and started to contemplate both women, as if trying to find an answer to his confusion.

"I'm sorry," future Bulma apologized. "I shouldn't have-"

"It's Ok," the other assured her. "He's your son, too. I know it must be... wonderful, to see him as a child again." She knelt down and beckoned Trunks over. When he made his way to her, she lifted him up and sat back on the couch with the baby on her lap. "Are you hungry?" she asked him. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't offer you anything to eat!" she said to Bulma and Trunks.

"Don't worry, we're fine," Trunks told her.

Little Trunks pulled from Bulma's clothes to call her attention. "What do you want?" she asked him sweetly.

"I have two mommies?"

"Oh... Well... Uhm, you don't, honey. It's just that..." she shot a glance at her future counterpart. How was she going to explain this to him?

"Trunks, listen," the older Bulma began to say. "I am your mother." For some reason the present Bulma didn't like what the other had just told her son, but she kept her mouth shut. "But you have only one. What I mean is we are the same person, but from different worlds. I don't really belong to this place, and I just came to visit you... do you understand?"

He shook his head "No."

The younger Bulma laughed. "Nevermind, Trunks. What you must know is you'll have two mommies for a couple days and then everything will be back to normal, Ok?"

He nodded in understanding "Ok."

"Good," she smiled proudly.

"Who's the boy?" He now was curious about future Trunks, which made Bulma smile wider.

"Oh, he has the most beautiful name ever. Try to guess."

Little Trunks stood up and walked up to future Trunks to look into his eyes. "Vegeta?" he asked, taking aback everyone else in the room.

"What? No..." Bulma said.

"But you said the most beautiful name... and he looks like daddy." He didn't know, but his words made his older self feel warm inside and his eyes shone brightly. _He_ _looked like his father_.

"Vegeta's not a beautiful name, hon," she told him.

"Speaking of Vegeta... where is he?" future Bulma asked.

"Where do you think...? I barely see him all day. He wakes up and goes to train, he comes out to eat and then he trains again. He eats, he trains, and then he goes to sleep. Well, not exactly to sleep, but he goes to bed at least. That's his routine," she finished, a little annoyed.

The older Trunks felt quite uncomfortable. He didn't really need the last piece of information.

"I didn't see the gravity chamber outside."

"He trains inside the house, now." Her attention went back to Trunks, who was waiting for an answer. "His name is Trunks, honey. Just like you. And he's your-"

"He's a friend of the family, so he's not necessarily related to you," future Bulma interrupted her. The older Trunks and the younger Bulma looked at her surprised. The poor kid wasn't going to understand a thing. "Why don't you ask him to go to play with you, huh? Wouldn't that be fun?" Trunks glared at her, how dare she send him with the child without even asking him if he wanted to? Not that he didn't want to, though. It would be very interesting to talk to himself... and actually get an answer, he thought.

The baby pulled Trunks' hand willing him to stand up. "Let's go!"

"Fine, fine," he followed him.

"Don't fight over the toys, children," present Bulma joked.

Future Trunks ignored her, but the other responded. "We won't."

The women watched their respective sons walk hand in hand until they were no longer seen. Now they could have the talk they wanted.

"Why are you here?" present Bulma asked, now sounding absolutely serious.

"We came on vacation. In our time most of the places are destroyed and half the people is dead. Since Trunks defeated the androids I've done nothing but work on the house and the company, to arrange things and start the life he always deserved. But he wanted me to take some days for myself so here I am. I chose here and now because I thought it would be nice to see the city as it was so many years ago, before the attacks. There are many things that are different from where we live. I knew Trunks would be happy to see you again and I didn't have to think it twice."

"Sounds fair enough..." Future Bulma nodded. "Now tell me the real reason why you're here."

She gulped, but she kept her tone. "That's all I had to say."

"Really...?"

"Why are you talking to me as if I was a murder suspect? I'm still you, Bulma."

She sighed, "You're right." Her smile came back and she forgot about her doubts for a while. "Well, why don't we go around the house so you can familiarize with the changes and feel at home? You are at home, after all."

"Sure, I'd love to."

///

Almost seeming like twins, both women walked through every corridor of Capsule Corporation, every room, every corner. And future Bulma noticed nothing had changed, except for a thing or two.

"Gravity Room?" she thought aloud. "This is where he trains, right?"

A big explosion was heard from inside. "I think that answers your question," present Bulma replied. "Obsessive maniac..." she half murmured, making her older self chuckle, and she decided to test her. "Do you want to see him?"

"Oh, no. I don't want to bother him. He must be very busy."

"Oh, come on! You'd even be making me a favor," she insisted. "It would be good to see him more than three times a day, anyway." She was going to knock on the door but the older Bulma grabbed her hand to stop her.

"Please, just leave him. I can see him later... Uh, why don't you show me your room?" she suggested, quickly changing the subject.

Bulma curled her lips. "Alright, let's go."

A few steps later they entered the bedroom, the same one Bulma had slept in since her childhood, the same one that used to have a single bed instead of the king sized one that now lay in the middle.

"You share?" future Bulma asked, now quite surprised. "Since when do you share the room?"

"Since some months ago," she sighed. "It took me weeks to convince him, but he immediately learned the benefits," she grinned.

"Oh... how's the relationship going... if I may know?"

"Well, you know, I only see him a few hours a day..." she started to say. "But, despite that..." she winked at her, "it's excellent."

Future Bulma shuddered at the thought. _Excellent_. It meant so many things. Total understanding. Absolute respect. Undying affection. Passion at its peak. Everything she didn't have. Everything she once had, though. Or didn't she? She believed she did, but then again it was a long time ago, so she couldn't remember well.

Then she felt something else she didn't think she'd be feeling. Jealousy? No, envy. She envied her own past self for having what she had lost, for having Vegeta. The one person that was snatched from her due to a cruel dirty trick played by destiny.

"...I see." Before she continued speaking she heard an other voice behind her.

"Bulma! Why didn't you tell me we have guests?" a tall, blond woman asked.

"I was about to do it, mom. I was just showing her the house," the young Bulma excused herself.

Future Bulma turned around to find someone she loved so much she couldn't help but be deeply moved. "Mom..." she said under her breath, so low that no one could hear her.

Mrs. Briefs observed the second blue haired lady and smiled cheerfuly at her. "Hi, I'm Bulma's mom. What's your name?"

"I'm... Bulma," she said quietly.

"Oh, just like my daughter! What a coincidence!"

She held a chuckle. "Yeah, well..." She had to hide her emotion. Her mother was about her age now. Mrs. Briefs was oblivious to the identity of her daughter from the future and, just like Trunks, she wouldn't comprehend it anyway.

"She's Trunks mother," present Bulma said. "You know, the other Trunks, who came some time ago."

"Oh, really? That boy is adorable. Is he here too?" Future Bulma nodded. "Great! Then I'll be glad to make a feast for all of you for dinner. Unfortunately I don't have any more pastries to offer you, Vegeta ate them all this morning."

"It doesn't matter, mom," the young Bulma told her. "Listen, why don't you introduce her to dad while I go to make dinner? I'm sure she'll love to see the laboratory."

"Ok..." Mrs. Briefs giggled. "You've probably never seen something like this before. Come, follow me," she spoke to the older Bulma.

Future Bulma said a silent _thank you_ in appreciation of the favor to the younger woman, who nodded in response.

Bulma stood in the hallway until her mom and her other counterpart disappeared down the stairs. Her future self, she thought. What a mature woman. So different, yet so alike. It was nice to meet her, the person that raised Trunks all by herself, surviving through the worst of nightmares. She decided to lower her guard and stop doubting her own older self because, how bad could her visit be?

Future Bulma looked behind her one more time, not to see the woman lying against the wall, but the door a few meters away from her. The Gravity Room, they called it. The room that contained the real reason for her to be there. She walked forward and acted normally. She was genuinely happy to be able to see her parents again, and spending some time with them would be the perfect way of spending time before she finally got to see him, after so many years. The wait would definitely be worth it.


	3. Like a Dream

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball. Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT and all of their characters belong to Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation.

Chapter 3: Like A Dream

"See? You can't hurt me, I'm very strong," little Trunks said to his older self.

"You're right. You seem to be much stronger than me."

"Because I'm a super Saiyajin!" he said proudly.

"You are?" he asked, knowing the boy was just pretending.

"Yes, now don't move."

Trunks laughed and raised his hands, as in surrender. "But then it would be too eas-"

"I'm going to destroy you, Kakarot!" little Trunks shouted.

"Kakarot?"

Trunks ran with his plastic sword and hit his other self across the torso. Then he put his hands on his waist and raised his head, triumphantly.

"Ow! You hit me," future Trunks said, playfully. He threw his sword to the floor and put his hands on his stomach. "You are so strong," he said falling to his knees.

They heard the door open and waited until they could see who was behind it.

Present Bulma observed the boys in front of her. Little Trunks had a sword in his hand and was standing next to an apparently dead future Trunks.

"Are you guys alright?" she asked.

"I killed Trunks," the boy said happily.

"You what?"

Future Trunks was lying on the floor, but his eyes were open. He shook his head to let her know everything was fine. "Not really," he said.

"You can't talk. You died," little Trunks told him.

"Oh, sorry."

"Hmph... well, try not to really kill each other, Ok?"

"Ok," the baby said.

"Mommy's gonna make dinner, Trunks. What would you like to eat?"

"Cookies!"

She laughed a little. "But for dinner."

"Cookies," he insisted. Bulma sighed.

"Well, how about escalopes?"

"With fries?"

"Why not?"

"Yay!"

"I'll come back later and tell you when it's done, then," she said before grabbing the knob to close the door.

"I love you, mommy."

Oh, how he always managed to make her smile. "...I love you too, Trunks." She looked at Trunks on the floor again and nodded to him. "Both of you."

When she closed the door, little Trunks felt he had to make some things clear with his future counterpart, despite still being oblivious to who he really was. "But she loves me more."

///

Bulma looked at her right, smiling. The short, old man was looking for a specific item in the toolbox, not knowing if it was even there. He tended to forget where things were and never left his laboratory without making a mess out of it. Luckily she didn't take much after him when it was about that sort of things, for only her room used to be as untidy.

"What are you looking for, exactly?"

"Uhm… well, have you seen a soldering iron around here?"

"You mean that one on the shelf up there?" she asked, pointing with her finger at a little object a meter above their heads.

"Oh, yes. That is it." He put a chair below the shelf to get to grab the tool, but Bulma stopped him before he could climb up it.

"Allow me," she said politely, already with a hand on the back of the metal chair. He stepped back, and she quickly got a hold of the item to be back with her feet on the floor and hand it to her father.

"Thank you."

"You should pay more attention to where you leave your things," she said smiling.

"Yeah, well… I guess you're right," he laughed scratching his head. "You still haven't told me how you know so much about this. I mean, I thought my daughter was the only one who could help me solve these codes," he said, indicating with his head towards the computer.

"Well, I'm a scientist too."

"Really?"

"Bulma! Darling!" Mrs. Briefs interrupted them. "Bulma said dinner will be ready in a matter of minutes, so make sure to be there when it's served," she said, grinning widely.

"Oh, thank you, dear," Dr. Briefs said. "Well, I guess that's it for now. Thanks for your help," he said to Bulma.

"It was nothing."

///

Future Bulma was back in the main part of the house when she crossed ways with Trunks.

"Oh, mom, I've just taken your things to your room."

"Thanks, hon. Uhm... which one is it?"

"The one to the left of mom's..." he paused for a second. "Uh, I mean Bulma..."

"What? Next to Bulma and Vegeta's room?"

Trunks shrugged his shoulders. He definitely didn't see the problem. "And I'll be to the left of yours, so you'll be in the middle..." He noticed his mother was not paying attention to him. "Mom?"

"Yeah... Ok," she nodded.

"Well, do you know where grandma and grandpa are? I haven't seen them yet."

"I think they went to the dining room."

"Oh, see you there, then," he said before starting to walk out of her sight, but then he turned around. "By the way, the time machine is in my bedside table."

"Alright," she responded, but he wasn't there anymore.

Bulma stepped forward to enter her new temporary bedroom, the one used to keep her clothes that were out of season in her timeline. The cream pink curtains were covering the open window through which the main garden could be seen. Her suitcase lay on her white sheeted bed. A single bed. Like the one she was so used to using ever since she learned to walk. Even when living with Yamcha for so many years and then later Vegeta, she never got herself to buy a double one. Probably the fact that she lived with her parents was part of the cause, for it would be proof of her nonexistent innocence in a house where she was still treated as a teenager. But she soon grew up, became an adult, and finally got pregnant. And nobody could be oblivious to her lack of virginity anymore. Though maybe they always knew, since she brought the desert bandit home at the age of sixteen. But still, despite welcoming a second person many times through the years, being it a sweet boyfriend or a heated lover, her bed always remained the same. As if she was destined to wake up to her sole presence every passing day.

A square painting on the floor called her attention. It seemed like it had been hanging on the wall but somehow managed to fall down. She picked it up and recognized the picture of West City she had drawn a week before abandoning high school. The background was a mixture of reds, oranges and yellows. A beautiful dawn. She liked to think she was able to observe the beauty of the sky while everyone else was still asleep.

She placed the painting back on the wall and decided to join the others in the dining room, as her stomach reminded her she hadn't eaten a thing since lunch. Her glance wandered round the room one last time before leaving it, but a second later she froze in place.

She instinctively knew what that lock sound was. She was very aware of the distance between her bedroom and the gravity room, and she had no doubt someone had just stepped out of it. But as much as she wanted, she didn't have the nerve to turn around and face the person behind her. She just couldn't.

She felt her body started to shake and her breathing came to a stop when she heard firm footsteps approaching her. Then she thought her legs would fail to keep her standing the moment a deep voice talked to her.

"Did you cut your hair again?"

But they didn't. Instead she had to hold a chuckle provoked from the irony of the first words she heard from Vegeta after over twenty years. Not a hello, not a how have you been, not an I missed you. But something about her change of look.

Of course, this wasn't _her_ Vegeta, and he confused her with someone else.

"I think it's-"

"Oh, I see you two already met," present Bulma showed up in the aisle, interrupting him.

Vegeta looked at her surprised. There was the same Bulma he'd seen hours ago, with her hair barely covering her shoulders. But then who was this woman?

Future Bulma finally gained the strength to turn around, only to run into the almighty prince of the Saiyajins. He was looking at her, and he'd just talked to her as if he did it usually. He was handsome and brawny, just as she remembered him. And that hair she liked so much... Gosh was he sexy. But despite the many similarities there was something very different from the Vegeta she knew. _He was alive_.

How long had she waited for this moment? Before the travel to the past she had thought she would only see him in her dreams for the rest of her days. She knew she wouldn't see him in the Other World. Vegeta was in Hell. Of that she was sure. She sometimes liked to pretend he was in a better place, but she couldn't lie to herself.

This felt like one of her dreams, indeed. One of those where they meet after a long time, and it suddenly feels like they'd never been apart. One of those where her body is numb due to his overwhelming presence. And one of those that even after waking up felt very much _real_.

Vegeta looked at future Bulma once more, then back at the younger one. If he didn't know better he'd swear the other lady was Bulma's clone, only a little older.

"Please, tell me this is your biological mother. I'll be so glad to do this planet a favor by making that dumb woman disappear." Bulma's jaw fell open.

"What nerve, Vegeta!" she said angrily. "How dare you say that about my mother?"

"Then who is she?" he asked, ignoring her reply.

Bulma smirked, forgetting about the insult. "She's none other than myself," she said with her head held high. "My self from the future."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow at the news and observed the woman next to him. "Two Bulmas in the same place? ...Hmph, this can't be good," he said, before turning his back on the older Bulma. He walked towards present Bulma, but stopped in mid distance to open an other door.

"What are you doing? Dinner's ready."

"I'll take a shower."

"Ok, but make it quick. We're eating with my parents, and we also have guests."

He made a double take before asking, "Guests?"

"Trunks is here too." He looked at future Bulma again. She was the woman who raised his son from the future, he figured. It was obvious he would be there too.

His attention went back to Bulma. "...Do I _have_ to eat with your parents?"

"Unless you don't want to eat. But I bet you're hungry," she grinned.

He growled. "Fine," he said while closing the bathroom door behind him so he could no longer be seen.

Bulma neared her other counterpart with an air of satisfaction. Vegeta was so easily convinced! However, her grin soon faded when she saw the expression on the woman's face, who hadn't uttered a single word yet. She was pale, her body still and her eyes distant.

"Hey...!" she softly shook her once by the shoulder. "Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost, or something..."

Future Bulma went back to her senses, bothered by the girl who was trying to help. "I'm fine!" she said in annoyance, waving her away.

Bulma was surprised at her reaction, but she didn't have the time to respond since the other woman had already left the aisle. "Oh... how come I didn't realize?" Her future self had just had her first encounter with Vegeta after who knew how much, of course it was shocking for her.

///

"So, where did you say you're from?" Mrs. Briefs asked Bulma.

"We're from a very far off place..." She couldn't say they were from West City, it would be risky if her parents asked her where exactly she lived. But she couldn't say they were from a different timeline either, since Trunks and her had already agreed to hide their identities, at least from Dr. and Mrs. Briefs. "It's a big city, full of large buildings and important companies."

"Oh, really? What region is that?" Dr. Briefs asked.

Think quick, she said to herself. Just a five digit number would do. But what if she came up with one they already knew?

"Father!" The older Trunks said excitedly.

"Oh, Vegeta, we were waiting for you," Mrs. Briefs told him.

Bulma sighed in relief. Saved by the bell, or more specifically, saved by Vegeta, she thought.

Vegeta had just entered the dining room and observed the table before him. Bulma and her father on each extreme, future Bulma and Trunks on one side, Mrs. Briefs and little Trunks on the other. And a chair between them.

He glared at Bulma, who was smiling evilly at him. He knew this was for his previous insult to Mrs. Briefs. They were even.

Baby Trunks was sitting on a pile of pillows to reach his plate, which had little pieces of food already cut for him to eat. He was happily pointing towards the chair next to him, indicating his father where to sit. Vegeta sat down and grabbed his fork and knife, followed by everyone else as they started their meal.

"Hello, father," future Trunks repeated.

"Trunks..." was all Vegeta said to greet him. At least the boy deserved his welcome, he would not ignore him.

Future Bulma looked at Vegeta. He looked brusque, yet so cute when he ate. She was still a bit shocked, but oh so glad. He was right in front of her, moving, breathing, being himself. For a moment she thought everything was in slow motion, as memories of her very past started to play in her head. But her daydream was abruptly stopped when her counterpart spoke to her.

"Uh, you know... you two arrived just in time."

"In time for what?" she asked.

"Trunks' birthday party, of course," Mrs. Briefs told her.

"Oh, so you're doing a party? It's going to be my son's birthday too. It would be fun to celebrate both at the same time."

"Wait. Are you saying you are exactly twenty years older? Not a day of difference?" Bulma asked.

"That's right."

"Then you are fifty five, right?"

"That's a lot!" little Trunks said.

"Trunks, be good and keep quiet, will you?" Bulma asked him, getting a single nod from him. "You actually don't look your age..." she said to future Bulma. "I'd say you're ten years younger at least."

"Oh, you're so kind," she smiled.

"Have you already chosen your rooms?" Mrs. Briefs asked.

"I'll be in the middle..." future Bulma said lowly. "Between Trunks' room and Bulma's..."

"What?" Dr. Briefs asked astonished. "Bulma, there's a reason your mother and I sleep in the other extreme of the house," he said, a little ashamed.

"And that is?" present Bulma asked.

"The lovely nightfall, of course," Mrs. Briefs answered. "I'm sure they'd love to see it through their windows." Whether she was trying to avoid the topic of conversation or just assuming that was what her husband meant, they were not sure.

"I don't think it's that important, mom..." present Bulma said. "Trunks, tell me what you've been doing all these months," she said changing the subject.

"I play with toys," little Trunks replied, earning a short laugh from everyone except Vegeta.

"Not you, hon."

"Oh..."

"I've been catching up on studies," future Trunks said. "You know, I've never actually finished high school."

"How interesting. You must be very smart. I mean, you're the son of a genius after all," she winked at him.

Trunks blushed a little. "Yeah, well..."

"He will take charge of the company in the future," the other Bulma commented.

"Really? That's great!"

"He proved to be very mature, and responsible as well," she said proudly.

"Oh, that's fantastic. I hope our little one turns out to be just like you, Trunks. Wait... I'm sure he will," she laughed. "And how about fun? Do you go out with friends?"

"Yes, sometimes."

"And do you have a girlfriend?" Trunks looked like he didn't know where to hide his face, it was moments like these when he felt embarrassed.

"You know, actually..." future Bulma began to say. "He doesn't want to tell. I think he does have someone, but he's just so shy about it."

"But Trunks, you're not even a teenager anymore. It's alright to have a girl, and I'd be so happy if you did. I mean, your mother would..."

"Well, I..."

"How old are you?" she interrupted him. "Twenty two?"

"I'm almost twenty four."

"That's a lot too," little Trunks said, but he was mostly ignored.

"Really...? I thought you were twenty years older than Trunks."

"But I spent two days in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, remember?"

"Oh, right. That means Vegeta is two years older too. How could I forget that?" Trunks rolled his eyes. Vegeta just took a mouthful of fries. "Anyway, I was saying... do you have any idea what I was doing at your age?" Her parents looked at her, afraid that she may say something inappropriate. Future Bulma looked at her, and even Vegeta did. Little Trunks just kept trying to put his fork into his mouth.

"Uh... I don't think I want to know," Trunks said, his face totally red.

Bulma saw the faces of her parents, then future Bulma's. "No, you don't. But you get the point," she said, shifting in her chair.

She felt awkward. Sometimes she spoke before thinking, but it would have been so wrong to talk about her personal, very personal life in front of her parents and her son. Both of them. And Vegeta just didn't need to hear it, he could easily guess.

The rest of the dinner was mostly quiet. Often, Dr. Briefs and his wife would comment on the latest news or gossip about their neighbours, and baby Trunks would make funny noises when eating his food, as if his fork was some kind of airplane. But the rest of the people remained silent.

Future Bulma couldn't help but keep laying eyes on Vegeta whenever she thought he wouldn't notice, but he always did. He hadn't thought about the situation before, but then he realized she must feel pretty much as Trunks did when he first met him; happy to see him, either because it was the first time in years or the first time ever.

He was curious about how Bulma had done without him. Was he easily forgotten or was he still in her mind? He shouldn't really care, he thought. But still he wanted to know. And he would have enough time to figure it out, just not today.

///

Later that night, Vegeta went back to his training, as he always did after dinner. Bulma put baby Trunks to bed and said goodnight to her parents and guests. Future Trunks fell quickly asleep and, contrary to him, his mother was having problems to fall into slumber.

What a day! She traveled through time and met her parents, who had died long ago. She met baby Trunks, and how she missed the little innocent boy, so different from her adult son. She met herself, young and beautiful, as she always said she was. It felt as if she was looking at a mirror, though a mirror that had frozen with her image years ago. And she met Vegeta.

Whoever said dreams didn't come true must have never dreamt in their life. She wondered if she would dream about him tonight, if she would be able to tell him that she was so happy to see him again, even if it was his alternate version, who had survived the androids' attacks and was yet much stronger. She closed her eyes and waited for him to appear in her dreams. But little did she know that the noises and moans from the room next door wouldn't let her sleep at all.


	4. Night at Capsule Corporation

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball. Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT and all of their characters belong to Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation.

A/N: There's a lime scene in the first part of this chapter, if you think you would be bothered by it please skip to the next scene.

Chapter 4: Night at Capsule Corporation

Vegeta entered the room and closed the door behind him, releasing a long sigh. His training was really hard and exhausting, and he was finally done for the day. The lamp on her night stand was on, but Bulma didn't seem to be awake. She was lying on her back, her eyes closed, a little book on her stomach. He turned the light off, went closer and sank onto the bed, startling her.

"Hm? Oh, Vegeta... you scared me," she said quietly, removing the book from her belly and putting it on her bedside table. "What time is it?" she asked, not bothering to look at the alarm clock next to her.

He shrugged. "Do I look like a clock to you? ...It's late."

She rolled her eyes. "I hadn't realized I was falling asleep," she told him as he got under the covers. She waited until he made himself comfortable. "So... what do you think of me?"

He raised an eyebrow while turning to the side to face her, and briefly studied her body. "You are-"

"I mean my other self," she clarified. "The other Bulma... do you think I'll still look good at her age?"

"Did I ever tell you you looked good?"

"Hmm, no... but I can tell you think so," she said smirking.

"Tsk..." That fact was a little obvious. There was no point in arguing. "Why would they come to this timeline, anyway?"

"To see everyone, I suppose... I would miss my friends and family a lot if I hadn't seen them in years."

"Still... it sounds strange," he said thoughtful. "Trunks wasn't coming back, and here he is along with your older version... They might want something."

"You're looking too much into it. Just leave them be... Aren't you happy to see your son again?"

"I see him every day," he said carelessly.

"It's not the same."

"It's the same person... I really don't care."

"Huh... some father you are," she reproached him. "If I was in her... my... uh, Bulma's place, I certainly wouldn't miss _you_."

He knew by her tone that she wasn't serious. Still he asked. "Are you sure of that?"

"Do you think I would miss a prideful, bad tempered Saiyajin whom I barely see all day?"

"I'm sure you'd miss this," he said, as he positioned himself over her.

"Miss what?"

His left hand grabbed her by the waist and the other one squeezed tightly her bottom. Bulma circled her arms around his back. He leaned to her and dragged her into a kiss, which she happily accepted. Her mouth found it hard to suppress a smile as his tongue intertwined with hers, licking her, savoring her flavour. She felt like he was taking her soul in the process. A breath-taking kiss.

When she couldn't hold it anymore, she pulled away to grasp for air.

"Hmm... yeah, well..." she said between breaths. "It's not like I didn't like it, but... I'm not sure if I'd miss that," she said playfully.

Was she baiting him? "What are you talking about? I haven't done a thing, yet," he answered matter-of-factly.

Her eyes grew big and her grin yet wider. "Then start already," she asked him, failing at disguising her impatience. He laughed.

Something about her face always captivated him. Her smile was contagious, but those beautiful blue eyes threatened to disarm him completely.

Vegeta let himself fall carefully over her body and kissed her neck, his warmth surrounding her completely. Bulma's fingers slided slowly from his spine to his nape, making him slightly shiver. She played a little with the base of his hair until he stopped her, only to remove her light green satin nightgown and continue with his ministrations. He then licked the same spots he had previously kissed, while easily lifting her torso to unclasp her brassiere. The clothing ended up on the floor, just as everything did whenever they had a love making session.

Her milky round breasts that were now exposed, her firm soft skin, the hint of blush on her cheeks and her expectant smile were all too tempting for Vegeta. He grinned. This woman loved every single thing his tongue did to her body, and he was very aware of it. His kisses traveled down from her neck to her right breast, stopping before touching its core, waiting for her to notice what he wanted her to do.

When he didn't move, Bulma raised her head to look at him, and by the look on his eyes she instantly knew what he expected from her. She impatiently raised her chest towards his lips and he finally made the contact she wanted. At first he barely licked her nipple, just to make her suffer a little. But she took a deep breath in, and soon enough her breast was inside his mouth, the other one being caressed by his right hand. Bulma couldn't hold the moan that escaped her, she didn't even try. Vegeta knew pretty damn well what her sensitive spots were, and where and how she liked to be touched. And he enjoyed torturing her.

She grasped his hair again, strongly pulling from it, tangling it, making a mess out of it, as she always did in response to his touches. He didn't care, he knew her nails sinking into his back would come next. Her eyes were half closed, debating whether to close them completely and give in to sensation, or getting to see the man giving her pleasure.

Next thing she knew, her panties were off. How and when they left her body she was not sure. She was fully naked now for him to see. For him to touch, to feel, to play. But not before he was naked as well, she thought. Though unfortunately... or rather fortunately for Bulma, she didn't make it in time to prevent him from touching her most intimate zone. Two fingers were already testing her temperature, making her lose all control of her actions. She couldn't help but arch her back a bit, allowing him to go for more. But as soon as a hint of sanity hit her again, with a little help by putting her hands on the sides of her knees, she abruptly closed her legs, Vegeta's hand still between them. He didn't think something was wrong, but he didn't know what she wanted to do either, though that didn't last long. Bulma pushed herself up, took Vegeta's head between her hands and kissed him passionately. And the very first second she thought he seemed vulnerable, she turned him on his back.

Now she was the one on top, smirking in anticipation. Vegeta looked at her with an air of understanding and smirked as well. Lucky him, he was wearing spandex. Otherwise it would be harder to resist the pain of his erection against the clothes. Bulma squeezed once his toned thighs before ripping off his training suit. She crawled over him until she reached his face and gave him a little peck on the lips. Then one on his collarbone, one on his chest, one on his stomach, and one under his navel. Now it was skin upon skin, and the fun had only just began.

///

Bulma was wide awake, in the solitude of her dark bedroom. She had expected to hear maybe one, two, or even three moans from the room next door. But what the hell were they doing there? It seemed like a cheap adult movie in which the characters never got tired and were way too scandalous. How long since they started? About an hour? Alright, if Vegeta was in the mood she knew sometimes they spent most of the night through, but couldn't they control the volume of their cries?

She heard a scream. Oh, come on, she was never that loud, now was she? Was Vegeta that good? Hah! Of course he was, that was not something she could easily forget.

Then she almost jumped when she listened to a knocking on her wall. And another one, and another one. Dammit. Their bed was against the wall. It surprised her that it wasn't dented.

And then his voice. No, please. Not him, she begged in silence. It was already a torture to hear her own voice. But Vegeta's... in the sweetest of situations, with someone who was not exactly her. That _hurt_. She had no other choice but to accept it, it _was_ her after all, and she knew from the beginning what she would have to endure when she decided to come to this timeline.

Something else called her attention. The painting of West City was shaking. Ok, so whenever Bulma and Vegeta had sex the whole city suffered the consequences, she thought ironically.

She closed her eyes and tried not to focus on what was happening a few meters from her. But it was so difficult. She reminded herself what she was here for. _Vegeta_. The things that were left undone when he was taken away from her. The goodbye they never had.

She heard a breathless _yes_ from the other room, followed by something near her hitting the floor. The painting had just came off of the nail and fell. Now she knew why she had found it there hours earlier.

She felt something damp sliding down her right cheek. She rubbed the tear away with her finger, disconcerted. Why would she cry over something so insignificant? It wasn't like she actually cared for what was going on between Vegeta and the woman who was no other but her own past self. Right?

Bulma didn't notice the moment it all went silent, but she was glad she was finally falling asleep. But when she less expected it, the moans were back. She sighed. There goes another round, she thought.

Great, just great. She wouldn't be able to get some rest until those two calmed down. And worst of all was, the woman screaming wasn't her.

///

Vegeta and Bulma were lying next to one another, swimming out of the last waves of pleasure, waiting until their hearts reached normal speed again. They've had enough for the night. Vegeta's eyes were closed, but there was a smile on his face. Bulma looked at him with admiration. He was so wild, and yet so sweet to her.

"Vegeta..." she called him in half a whisper, in fear that he might be asleep.

"Hmph?"

"I certainly would miss that," she admitted. He chuckled self confidently. Of course she would.

She turned to the side so that she could hug him around the chest, making herself more comfortable by putting a leg between his. She kissed him on the cheek and rested her head on his shoulder, breathing against his neck.

"I love you." She waited for an answer that she didn't really expect, though pretty much wanted to hear. All she got was Vegeta opening his eyes to stare at her and kiss her on the forehead. "You know... this is when you say you love me too." He raised his arm to embrace her and hold her closer, his other hand moved a strand of hair from her face and then stayed on her hip.

"Why would I say that?"

"You'd make me happy."

"I thought you were happy already."  
"...But you could make me happier."

"Happier than a moment ago?" She nodded, he laughed. "That's hard to believe." She kept silent. "...And what if I didn't say it?"

Bulma thought for some seconds. She knew the answer to his question. It was simple, but saddening nonetheless. "One day I might just get tired of asking."

"Then nothing would change."

"No, nothing would change... because as much as I'd like to say I'll find someone else to say it to me, I would still love you."

Her statement took him by surprise, he definitely didn't like the idea of her with someone else. He gave her a short kiss on the lips to reassure her.

"I never said I didn't love you, Bulma."

And she gave him a kiss back. "You never said you did, either."

He smirked, only to hide the pain her last words caused him, because he knew they hurt her too, and it was only his fault.

Vegeta gave Bulma another kiss, but it lasted just a short moment. They both were sleepy, the night had taken the best of them, and he had an intense training to do in a matter of hours. The day after tomorrow would be Trunks' birthday, and Vegeta was supposed to spend the whole day with his family. Bulma turned off the lamp close to her. They didn't speak another word and finally fell asleep in each other's arms.

///

When future Bulma entered the kitchen the next morning, she found Trunks already having breakfast. He had really made himself at home, she thought. She had no idea how many hours she had slept, but they certainly weren't enough. She still felt tired.

"Good morning, Trunks."

He stiffened. "Oh... good morning, mom."

She sat in front of him and took a toast, then she saw the circles under his eyes. "How did you sleep?"

Trunks lowered his head, he didn't want to see her in the eyes. "Hmm... fine."

"Well, you look like you haven't slept at all."

Trunks felt like he wanted to hide his face, but he just turned to the side and looked out the window, to avoid the sight of his mother.

Was that blush on his cheeks? "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said quickly.

"Why are you so pink?"

"I'm not pink..."

This wasn't going anywhere, so she changed the subject. "Is Bulma awake yet?"

He really worried her now, he was turning red. "I... haven't seen her..."

She studied his face for a few more seconds, then she knew. "Oh, Gosh, you heard them."

"What?"

"You heard them last night."

"...I don't know what you're talking about," he lied.

"Trunks!"

"Ok, maybe a little..."

She gasped in horror. "I can't believe this..." she said shaking her head in disaprovement. Then she felt the need to explain, "Trunks, I swear I never screa-"

"I don't want to know, mom!" He interrupted her.

"...Right."

How degrading. Her son had to listen to his shameless parents doing this and that with no consideration for the other people in the house. And what about the baby? Did he listen to them too?

"I'm sorry," she apologized. But for what? She hadn't done a thing.

"It's fine..."

///

Bulma woke up to a glorious morning. She felt good. Really good. Like every morning that followed a mind-blowing love making session. Far and forgotten was the little argument they had before she surrendered to dreamland.

She didn't want to open her eyes, but not because the sunlight entering through the window might bother her. She just wanted to believe he was there with her for a few more seconds. When she decided to get up, she stretched an arm towards his side of the bed, only to reassure herself that he wasn't there. Again.

She remembered the intense training he had planned for the day, and smiled. Tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow was their son's birthday and he would not train at all. So what if he didn't even say good morning to her today? He probably will tomorrow.

///

Trunks was about to leave the kitchen , but he stopped when he saw Bulma coming his way. He was so fast that his mother didn't notice when he sat in front of her again.

"Please, don't tell them anything," he begged, making her jump in surprise.

"What?"

"Good morning, everyone!" Bulma greeted as she entered the place with a wide smile.

"Oh," future Bulma muttered, it was easy to know what her son had meant. _Don't tell mom and dad I heard them having sex_.

"Hi, myself," Bulma insisted as she kissed her counterpart on the cheek.

"Good morning, Bulma," she responded, right before winking an eye at Trunks. She would keep his secret.

He sighed in relief. "Hi, mom."

"You're up early," she said to Trunks as she sat next to him.

"Huh?" He managed to say before she kissed him on the cheek as well.

She didn't notice the reaction on his face. "Well, little Trunks sleeps until-" Trunks stood up seemingly in shock and ran towards the door. "What's wrong?"

"I, uh... have things to do," he answered quickly.

He felt so ashamed. He still had memories of Bulma's screamings that he wanted to forget. That never happened when he came for the second time to fight against the androids and Cell. Or at least he didn't hear them. Maybe those days were not the best to have some couple action, anyway. Or maybe they were now even closer.

But what the hell? He didn't want to think about it. They were his parents, for crying out loud!

"See you later, mom... and mom," he finally said before rushing out.

"...What's his problem?" she asked her future self.

"I think he had nightmares," the other woman answered.

"Oh..." she said uninterestedly. She observed the things on the table and decided to serve some juice for herself. She drank it while watching the older Bulma. It was still weird for her to see her other self around the house. She laid her glass on the table and continued the conversation. "So... tomorrow is both Trunks' birthday. We have no cake, we have no decorations, and we don't even have presents for them, unless you do and haven't told me about it," she said, waiting for a response.

"I don't," future Bulma said, already figuring where this was leading.

"Well, guess where we're going today," she said enthusiastically.

The other Bulma gasped in excitement. How long has it been since? "We're going shopping!" she exclaimed, already wanting to head for the place.

"Exactly," Bulma affirmed with a smirk.

///

Dragon Street Mall was one of the largest shopping centers in West City, with over two hundred and fifty shops, thirty nine restaurants and thirteen screen cinemas. Bulma's favorite. Her guest from the future observed in awe at the precinct in front of her. Ever since the androids destroyed it in her timeline, it was never reconstructed again. Not yet, at least. She couldn't wait to walk through the aisles and see what she had been missing.

A man in his forties walked out of the building, and crossed paths with them.

"Wow, I came to the city on a business trip, but I'd rather stay forever with such beautiful women around," he said as he walked by.

The younger Bulma hid a smile. She was so used to being complimented, but she felt also uncomfortable being with her family when that things happened. "Excuse me," she said, forcing an irritated tone that she didn't actually feel. "Don't you see I'm with my son?" Little Trunks and his future self were also there.

The man turned around and looked at her to respond. "I'm sorry, but I was talking about your sister," he said before walking away.

She blinked in confusion. Sister...? "Oh..." So he was talking about future Bulma, not her. That was strange. No man had ever looked at an other woman while she was around, or so she thought. Then again, the other Bulma was still her. But how dare he think they were sisters? They sure looked much alike, but wasn't the age difference visible?

The older woman remained speechless. Yes, she still received compliments. Not so often, though. But she also wondered how her present counterpart would be feeling about it. She was definitely prettier, and more egocentric to boot.

They soon got inside the building, and were presented with a luxurious walkway and the fresh breeze of the air conditioner.

"So... how many things do we need?" the older Bulma asked.

Bulma took the shopping list out of her purse, took a look at it, and frowned. "Hmm... a lot."

"Well, how about we distribute the things to buy and split up, so we do it faster?" Trunks suggested.

"Alright," she agreed. She cut the list in two parts and gave the second half to the other woman.

"Cool, I get the decorations," she exclaimed. She glanced at little Trunks, who was holding Bulma's hand, totally lost at the sight of the world of toys and games in one of the shops a few meters from them. She laughed at his excitement, and restrained an urgency to hug him. Then she looked at Bulma. "Hey, can we trade sons?" she asked her. Trunks glared at her for a second.

"What?" Bulma asked, confused.

"Take my Trunks with you, and I'll go with the little one. I'd like to spend a while with him. What do you say?"

"Oh, sure." She squeezed slightly little Trunks' hand. "Trunks, do you want to go with Bulma?" she asked him, but he paid no attention to her. He still couldn't take his eyes off of the gigantic teddy bear behind the window.

The woman from the future knelt next to him and took his free hand. "Hey, Trunks. Wanna come and buy balloons with me?"

He turned to her immediately, his face lighting up even more, if that was possible. He instantly let go of his mother's hand and nodded in delight. "Yes!" he shouted happily, and the older Bulma stood up still holding his hand.

"Well, then. Let's go," she said, glad to be able to be alone with Trunks' little form. This would be interesting. She turned to Bulma, who actually felt a little disappointed that her son wanted to go with the other woman rather than her. But she was jealous of nothing, she thought. "See you here in what... two hours?"

"Three," Bulma corrected.

"Ok."

Bulma crouched down beside the boy. "Give me a kiss, Trunks."

He obeyed and kissed his mother sweetly on the cheek. "Bye, mommy," he waved his hand.

"Bye, hon," she said as she saw her future self turning around and leaving with her baby.

Well, she was not left alone. She was eager to talk to Trunks about certain things, anyway. She smiled at him and motioned her head towards one of the shops. "Alright, let's have our fun, too."


	5. Trouble

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball. Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT and all of their characters belong to Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation.

Chapter 5: Trouble

Bulma looked at the shopping cart she was carrying. It was full of different kinds of meat that would make an awesome barbecue. Trunks was now picking the ingredients for the cakes and other pastries, and she was amazed at the amount of jars of the same product he had just added to the group of food.

"I didn't know you liked milk jam that much."

"Yeah, but no cake is good without strawberries. We still have to go for them."

She smiled widely. "We're so alike," she told him. She liked the fruit so much she had even considered using the dragon balls to wish for a never-ending supply of strawberries back when she was a teenager.

Trunks returned the smile. "Yes, I guess."

Bulma arranged the items in the cart to make more space for the remaining ones. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"About what your mother said last night at dinner." He watched her over his shoulder, not quite getting it. "I don't mean to be nosy, but... are you dating someone? I mean, you actually never answered my question."

Trunks had been trying to avoid the subject with his mother, but this version of her was a different case. "Well... I am." Bulma gasped excitedly and was about to say something but he stopped her. "The thing is... I don't want to tell mom about it."

"Why not? I'd be so happy to know that."

"I know. She's always asking me when I will introduce her to some girlfriend."

"Then why?"

"Because subconsciously she also lets me know she doesn't want me to go. You know, grow up and leave." He looked to the side so he didn't make eye contact with her. "Because... unlike you, I'm all she has, and then she would be alone."

Bulma's happy expression disappeared. "Oh..." She looked down. "You're right. I've never thought of it." Trunks stood silent.

Her future self will really be alone when Trunks leaves. No parents, no friends, no Vegeta by her side. She wouldn't be that kind of woman who visited her children every two or three days because she had nothing better to do. So how would it feel to be that lonely? She didn't want to know. She had always been surrounded by people and the mere idea of sheer loneliness terrified her to the bone. No one to talk to, no one to run into in the house. How could she survive?

Yes, she was a very, very strong woman, but sometimes life was just so unfair.

Bulma saw Trunks was in the same preoccupied mood as her, so she continued the conversation.

"Well, but... that's no reason for you not telling her. You're very considerate, son, I really appreciate that. But I'm sure she'll be just fine. Don't you worry about it." She flashed him a smile to assure him.

He smiled back. "It's just that..." He didn't finish the sentence, not even knowing what to say.

"Trunks!" She called his attention again, so he didn't get lost in thought. "Tell me about this girl. What's her name? When did you meet her? I want to know everything about it," she said in a cheerful tone.

Trunks sighed half smiling. "Fine."

///

Bulma and little Trunks were done with their to-buy list. She was carrying two big bags in one hand, the other one holding the child. After so many changes of mind on which kinds of confetti, garlands, balloons and other useless trinkets to get, she had made sure she wouldn't let Trunks choose the rest of the stuff, or else they would never get out of there. Souvenirs, candles and all sorts of plastic elements for the main table, like plates and cutlery were picked in minutes. She'd thought three hours were too much to buy just a couple of things, but she had totally forgotten she lost all sense of time when shopping. They only had half an hour left, and she wasn't going to miss the opportunity to spend some quality time with the boy. She took him to an ice cream store and bought a chocolate cone for each of them. They sat next to a window through which they could see the cloudless sky.

"How is it?" she asked, as Trunks licked his ice cream.

His eyes shone with enthusiasm. "Great!"

Bulma smiled tenderly and looked at him for a long moment, he seemed to be so in peace, so happy. So unaware of anything except for the sugary treat in his hand. "So... tomorrow you'll be a year older. Aren't you excited?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Are you coming to my party?"

"Of course I'll be there. I wouldn't miss it for anything."

"Gohan and Goten are coming too."

At the mention of Gohan's name Bulma felt her stomach flinch. They were not talking about the Gohan she knew, who had died years ago in her timeline. This one was pretty much alive. And she was going to see him again in a matter of hours. She felt something close to guilt when she thought Chi-Chi would not have the same luck. She was going to answer back, but something else called her attention. A name she hadn't heard before.

"Who's Goten?"

"You know, the baby."

"...What baby?"

"Gohan's brother."

"What?" She almost screamed in confusion. "You mean... Chi-Chi had an other son? I didn't know this..."

Trunks laughed disbelievingly. "Yes, you did."

She remained speechless, assimilating the news.

So Chi-Chi got pregnant before Goku passed away. Even though the circumstances were others, his death couldn't be avoided here either. But a big change between both timelines did happen, besides the fact that the majority of the human race had been saved. Her friend had been blessed with an other child. Child who had never seen the light of day in the future timeline, and never would, due to his nonexistance.

"Your ice cream!"

"What?" She asked, as she vanished her thoughts and brought her attention back to Trunks.

"It's melting."

"Oh!" Bulma hadn't realized her fingers were getting dirty with the cold substance. She took a napkin and cleaned her hand, hearing the boy laughing heartedly at her, making her smile back. "You think this is funny?"

He grinned. "Yeah."

She smirked. "Well..." She slided her index finger through Trunks' cone and quickly touched the tip of his nose. He opened his mouth in surprise and his eyes widened. "Now _that's_ funny to me." The child only laughed some more, and she wondered if the Trunks she had raised had actually been this happy at that age. Sure he'd laughed and had great times, but something told her he had never been this carefree since he grew up in such apocalypse. She watched as the kid rubbed away the ice cream with his fist. "You look so cute."

"Grandma never did this to me."

"What do you mean? Does she often buy you ice cream?"

"When we go to the park."

"Oh? And what about mom? Does she take you to the park too?" He shook his head. "Really?" He nodded.

"Dad takes me sometimes."

Bulma blinked. "What? Vegeta?"

"Yes," he said happily.

She was shocked. Vegeta never seemed to be a role father, but at least she knew he wanted Trunks. But taking him to the park? Seriously? It sounded so strange to her. As if the little boy was either confused or talking about a very different person.

A while later they were in the queue to buy a ticket for the carousel, the last stop before they met Trunks and Bulma again. There was a toy vending machine a few meters from them which called little Trunks' attention. The man selling the tickets had ran out of change, so he asked Bulma if she could pay the exact amount. She let go of the child's hand for a moment and searched in her purse. The transaction was made very fast and she turned to grab him again.

"Ok, Trunks..."

She stopped in mid sentence. There were many kids running around the place... except for hers. He wasn't there anymore.

///

Bulma looked at her watch and sighed.

"I could be window shopping by now, but no! I had to come here for the food," she complained.

"Well, somebody had to," Trunks said.

She smiled. "Yeah, I know. At least we're almost done."

A voice was heard through the loudspeakers throughout the building, calling everyone's attention.

"Your attention, please. There's a missing three-year-old boy..."

Bulma ignored the rest of the notice. "Oh, poor child. How can someone possibly lose sight of such a little boy."

Trunks interrupted her by raising his hand in front of her, inciting her to listen.

"He has blue eyes and short lavender hair, and is about three feet and three inches tall. He's wearing blue jeans and a white shirt. If anyone sees him, please inform as soon as possible. I repeat..."

Bulma froze. "Oh, my God..." was all she could say. "Oh, my God..."

"Hold on, hold on. How many chances are there that this is Trunks they're talking about?" Trunks asked uneasily.

She looked at him worriedly and shook her head in negation. He wouldn't convince her otherwise or even calm her down. This missing child was her son and she knew it.

She was at a loss for words, but did her best to keep composure, and despite feeling suddenly dizzy she was ready to search for Trunks through the whole planet if necessary.

In an attempt to control the situation, Bulma started to think quickly about what to do next.

"Ok, you go to look for your mother and ask her what's going on. I'll look for Trunks, he should still be in here."

Trunks sighed in relief, and smiled. "Mom..."

"Wait, can you find him by feeling his ki? That should be easier."

"But, mom-"

"Can you?" She wasn't paying attention. Her own thoughts weren't even clear enough.

"There's no need!" he said in a raised tone, pointing his finger at something behind her.

She looked at him confused, but turned around to see little Trunks in a happy mood, holding a coloring book.

"Mommy, can you buy me this?"

Bulma breathed out the air she had been holding and allowed herself to laugh, kneeling before him and embracing him strongly. Here he was, completely oblivious to the situation. "Sure, hon." He smiled. Where he had found that book she had no idea. But her worries were now long gone, despite the still present shake of her hands. "Trunks, where have you been? Do you know where the other Bulma is?"

"Oh, thank God!" she heard someone say. As if imitating the older Trunks just a moment ago, the boy pointed at something behind her.

The woman from the future was there, walking past the adult Trunks and leaning towards the other one. "Here you are. Are you alright? Nothing happened to you?"

He shook his head. "Look, mom is buying me this," he said, showing her what he was still holding.

"Oh, how nice..." she said before seeing Bulma's grimace and falling into realization. She was in trouble.

The young Bulma turned to the older Trunks. "Trunks, can you tell the people of customer support that we have found him?"

Trunks knew something might be about to happen, but he looked at his other mother and she nodded to him, agreeing with Bulma. "Ok..."

"And take Trunks with you. You could say he's your brother or something."

"Fine. Come on, Trunks," he called. Little Trunks followed him and both women watched them until they disappeared from view. Now it was time for some explanations.

Bulma crossed her arms and looked seriously at her other self, waiting for her to speak. The other woman felt as if she was about to be punished for doing something horribly wrong, and there wasn't much she could say in her favour. At least Trunks was fine.

"We were-" she started, but was instantly interrupted.

"You lost my son!" Bulma suddenly accused her, angrier than expected.

"Uh, yeah, but..."

"You _do_ know everything that could have happened to him, right?"

"I know."

"Someone could have taken him, or hurt him, or what if he left the building and tried to cross the streets alone, or-"

"I get it, Bulma! I know how dangerous it can be."

"Well, it doesn't seem like you do. He's a child, for God's sake! He knows nothing of the world, and can't be around somewhere on his own."

"Believe me, I know exactly how you feel. He's also my son, remember? You should know I was as desperate to find him, you're not the only one who almost had a heart attack or fainted in fear. Damn, you didn't even have to go through what I did since you didn't know he was missing. So don't preach to me like that, dear, because I was the one who got the worst part, here!"

Bulma couldn't believe this. So the one to blame was now the victim? Right... "Oh, so now this is a who suffers the most contest? Don't make me laugh."

"I'm just saying, I understand how you might feel and I still have this awful lump in my throat, so please shut up and let's get going." She regretted her words immediately but it was already too late.

"Excuse me... you can't take care of your own son, as you say, and I have to shut up? Do you even hear what comes out of your mouth?"

"I _can_ take care of him, but it happened too fast, he was right next to me, and a second later he was gone. Haven't you taught him not to leave your side?"

She blinked astounded. "Are you insinuating this was my fault?"

The older Bulma was the first to realize there were a bunch of people around them, ready to intervene in the discussion if it became some sort of physical fight. She blushed and calmed down a little. "No, but don't worry, it won't happen again..."

Bulma then noticed the scandal they had been creating, worthy of a yellow magazine's article. "Of course it won't. I won't let you in charge of him again." The other woman was somewhat startled at the reaction but didn't respond to it, she didn't feel like arguing anymore. Bulma sighed. "I can't believe it... This has never happened to me before."

The older lady smiled with pity. "Well, it has now..."

They saw both future and present Trunks in the distance, the little one waving at them.

She shook her head. "No... I'm not you. I would have paid much more attention," she said as she started to walk towards them, the older Bulma following behind in silence. "You haven't even apologized..." she told the woman quietly, not bothering to turn around to face her.

The woman from the future watched the younger version of her in horror. After all this whole incident was caused by her big mistake of taking her eyes off the child. She made his mother worry as much as she did, or even more, if only for a minute. And then she defended herself in a way that seemed more of an attacking one, as if she wasn't responsible for what had occurred. What was she thinking?

She felt ashamed and terribly guilty. Bulma really deserved a sincere apology. "I'm sorry." Bulma didn't respond, maybe she didn't hear. The older woman accelarated her pace so she could catch up the younger one and see her in the eyes. "I'm really sorry," she said in a sad tone.

"Forget it," Bulma said sharply.

The older Bulma didn't want to make her any more nervous, so she decided not to utter an other word until they were back home. Bulma had good reasons to be furious, but Trunks was perfectly fine and nothing serious had actually happened. In a matter of hours things might just go back to normal.

When they joined the boys, Bulma picked little Trunks up and carried him in her arms, only to show she was capable of taking care and protecting him, unlike other certain person. They paid for the goods and finally got in the car. The adult Trunks felt widely uncomfortable, and the little one had no idea why his mom didn't come up with a random conversation in her happy tone as she usually did with him. Not that he really cared. He was quite entertained by the black and white images of his new book.

///

Bulma didn't stand it anymore. She hated being angry at anyone for whatever reason. She enjoyed the intellectual fights like those she often had with Vegeta, when both people involved know the argument is no big deal and could never affect their relationship. But the earlier discussion hadn't been like one of those. Maybe she was just overreacting. Yes, so much could have happened. But thinking about it, risk and danger were present everywhere in everyone's daily life and, even giving your best to take care of something, sometimes it's just not enough. And Bulma wasn't one to be paranoid about it, she accepted reality as what it was, and the reality here was that Trunks was now safe and sound, taking a nap in his bed. She left his room and headed for the kitchen.

She decided to leave the incident behind and go on, specially after the awkward lunch a moment ago, when the tension in the air made it too evident that something was wrong. But Vegeta treasured the silence, the adult Trunks didn't dare to start a conversation fearing it might make things worse, little Trunks was way too focused on his meal, and her parents weren't even there. Future Bulma had already apologized, it was only up to her to accept it. Besides, how much longer could she be mad at herself? That was certainly not healthy.

Her future counterpart had clearly made herself at home. She was doing the dishes without being asked to, managing the china as if it were her own.

"Weren't you on vacation?" Bulma asked her, almost making her jump in surprise. The other woman looked at her in confusion. "You're my guest of honour, get out of there," she ordered, but with a smile of camaraderie.

"Oh, but I don't mind."

"I do." The older Bulma rinsed her hands out as the younger one walked to the sink and took the sponge to continue the work. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Sure. Will you let me bring the cups and saucers to the table at least?"

Bulma laughed. "Go ahead. They're on the third shelf at-"

"I know," she said as she went.

She sighed. "Of course you do."

Vegeta entered the kitchen in the direction of the fridge, probably looking for something to drink before shutting himself in the gravity room.

"Vegeta." He looked at her. "Coffee?"

"No." She knew he wouldn't accept her offer, but it would have felt wrong not to ask him.

"Hey, why don't you invite Trunks to train with you?"

"Two people don't fit in there." He grabbed an energy drink can and opened it as the other blue haired woman set the table.

She wanted them to spend some quality time before Trunks left again, it would be good for both father and son. "Well, you can always train somewhere else and breath some fresh air." She turned around to find him downing the liquid in one go, and her counterpart at the table observing him with eyes that held both amusement and tenderness, resting her chin on her hand. Bulma flinched at what she saw, but took a deep breath in and decided not to make a comment about it, momentarily at least.

"Hmph, don't you ever drown drinking like that?" the lady at the table asked.

When the can was finally empty he looked curiously at her. Weren't they angry at each other just minutes ago? And now they were going to share a coffee? Who understood these women? One Bulma was crazy enough, now he had two of them to deal with. "Mind your own business," he responded as he threw the can into the dustbin.

"Wait, who did you say that to?" the younger Bulma asked in confusion.

Vegeta turned to her. "Both... And I train alone."

Predictable, she thought. But she was not going to insist on it, he wouldn't be able to train for the whole day tomorrow so she just left him alone. She shrugged her shoulders. "Fine," she said as he walked away.

Now that things seemed to have calmed a little between them, and taking the opportunity that no one else was around, future Bulma tried to talk about the earlier incident.

"Listen... about today..."

"It's ok... what happened, happened, right? Don't worry about it."

She raised an eyebrow. "So, you've... forgiven me?"

"Everybody makes mistakes every once in a while. Just forget it, will you? I was also a little harsh on you, so I guess we're even. Let's talk about something else instead, shall we?"

She was taken aback by her words. So that was it? No more quarreling over it? She had certainly expected Bulma to act like this, but not just yet. Anyway, she was happy that everything turned out alright.

"Ok, then... well, how many cakes are you going to bake?"

She turned off the faucet and walked to the coffee machine. "Um... about five, maybe more. There will be many saiyajin stomachs to feed."

"Well, I'll help you as much as I can. But we should start as soon as possible, there's plenty of other stuff to do."

"What are you talking about? I won't make them myself."

"What? Are you letting mom do all the work?"

"Of course not. The robots can do it."

She looked at her astonished. "So you're not making a single cake for your only son?"

"You make it sound so bad. I really don't see the difference."

She sighed. "You know... Trunks and I lost most of our possessions during the androids' attack, including all the robots and even things like that pretty coffee machine you have there." Bulma looked at the machine and then back at the woman talking. She didn't know where this was leading to but she listened carefully. "I had no choice but to learn to cook. Now I bake pies and cakes for every special occasion and brew coffee manually. If I didn't do it, then who would? We were on our own."

Bulma thought about it for a moment and frowned. She knew her cooking skills were generally poor in comparison to her mother's, who was always there to help her make every meal. And if the menu of the day required extra time or some culinary knowledge she didn't have, the problem was easily solved by making the robots work for her. She had never needed to learn and had never cared.

She was going to make a comment about it, but future Bulma beat her to it. "Trunks knows and appreciates how hard I work, the love and effort I put into everything I do for him. I'm far from being a chef, but I'd dare say I'm pretty good in the kitchen. He helps me too since he was about the age little Trunks is now."

Bulma's eyes opened big at the last bit of words. "Really? That young?" The hot beverage was ready and she brought the coffeepot to the table, filling the cups to the top.

"Thanks..." she said and took her cup. "Well, back then I gave him little jobs, like stirring, or kneading. Things he was capable of doing with all that strength he already had but represented no danger to him."

Bulma sat across from her. "Oh, I see."

"Whatsmore... sharing an activity with Trunks pulled us closer. Sometimes I wouldn't be able to play with him, so I used to make up for it by asking him for help. I took those opportunities to talk to him and grow our relationship stronger. But I'm sure you already know about this."

Did she? She did play with Trunks to keep him entertained, and she had as much fun as he did while at it. But how much did she actually talk to him? How much did she really know him?

Future Bulma smiled. "You might be wondering why I'm telling you all this. The thing is..." she paused to sip from her coffee. "...it's so gratificating to do something by yourself for others, and then being thanked for it. Your child recognizes the good intentions and respects you more. But it's not just about cooking, the same goes for other aspects of life."

"Yeah, I get the point. It's not like I don't know that, it's, well... I just don't keep it in mind that often and I don't take the time to do anything but lab work. Besides some self-pampering that is."

She giggled. "Sure, that's important too."

"Alright, then," Bulma said energetically. "I'll make the cakes and prepare the rest of the food after I'm done with my coffee, and I'm counting on you to help me."

"Ok, that's great, but..."

"What?" she asked confused.

"We _will_ need some help from the robots, too. As you said, there will be many saiyajin stomachs to feed."

Both women burst out laughing. They were finally getting along, and Bulma felt that if they weren't two versions of the same person living in separate worlds, they would have been good friends.

It was pretty clear they differed. But that was either due to the age difference, or life experience. Or probably both. The oldest of them knew so much more than the other one, and even made her reconsider some things. She didn't forget this woman had lost sight of Trunks. But nobody's perfect. She watched her in amazement and wondered if she would ever be so mature.


End file.
